


Guarded Hearts and Safe Houses

by sylvain



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Other, Strangers to Lovers, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:53:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 17,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sylvain/pseuds/sylvain
Summary: After a terrible fight with the Krang, the brothers are in desperate need of aid. Though you show only compassion, Leo is hesitant to accept the help of a human. Eventually, he lowers his defenses and allows you to care for more than the injuries he acquired in battle..This is a gift for melodiousmelodrama who requested a Leonardo x Reader slow burn. I worked hard to weave the details and themes we discussed into this story for her. I hope she enjoys reading it as much as I’ve enjoyed writing it.
Relationships: Leonardo (TMNT)/Reader, Leonardo (TMNT)/You
Comments: 21
Kudos: 83





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've broken it down into 9 chapters. It'll be around 16k. (I may put up a better summary as I think of one.)

You grab your coat headed for the kitchen window as quickly as you can, yet your father still manages to get in one more, “I told you that boy wasn’t right for you,” before you climb onto the fire escape. The young couple living next door don’t seem to mind your frequent visits to the roof. It wasn’t so long ago that they needed to get away from overbearing parents. Plus, you think, being astronomers they can appreciate your obsession with the night sky. 

Once you find your usual spot, nestled beside the stairwell door, you look up at the moon and breathe in the cool autumn air. Your apartment complex is one of the taller buildings around, so the view is unobstructed. The dark sky spans so far you can almost see the curve of the horizon. 

As long as you’re up here, you feel at peace. You feel like the worries of the world can’t touch you. But when your phone chimes, and you make the mistake of looking at your messages, it all comes rushing back. 

Your mother means well, but all her coddling is giving you a headache. You want to tell her your relationship with Dylan wasn’t that serious, that you always knew it was going to end this way. But, the truth is, you thought maybe it could have grown into something more. He was focused, driven, loyal. Except his loyalty was to his work, and he let you fall to the wayside. He wasn’t a cruel man or a cheater. But he chose work over you, constantly, and that wasn’t the life you wanted. So, you faced the music and parted ways.

But just because your relationship dissolved without a big fight, doesn’t mean the loss is painless. 

You’re staring up at the stars - trying to come up with the words that will assuage your mother’s worries and assure her you’re not heartbroken about being alone again - when the quiet of the night is broken with the bright clash of metal. 

A loud bang follows, startling you where you sit hidden from the commotion. You peer around the stairwell and see a tall, slim man crumple to the ground. The body twitches and sparks as it lies on the roof. Heart pounding, you pull yourself away from the scene, pressing your back against the concrete as you struggle to make sense of what you just saw.

There's another bang. And a battle cry from somewhere on the other side of the stairwell. Your blood rushes into your ears. The grunts and whacks of the fight draw near, broken only by a low voice of command. 

“Donnie! Mind your left! Raph, duck,” the voice calls, too close for comfort. Then, the smooth warnings end with a shout, “Mikey, no!” 

Maniacal laughter rises over a strangled call for help. 

You crawl, careful to keep yourself out of sight, and squint through the darkness. Bodies scatter the rooftop, electricity arcing from their limbs, and your mind supplies a word - androids. You have to blink. This is the stuff of movies. But then, brain-like entities emerge from the chest cavities of the androids and that’s something you’ve never seen. Not even on the big screen.

A plea for mercy and a string of threats call your attention further toward the edge of the building. A lone figure hovers off the roof, hanging limp in mid-air. A larger anthropomorphic brain, this one housed in armor, uses a mechanical arm to dangle and wave the body as it laughs again. 

Without a sound, someone takes a flying leap toward the monster, slashing twin blades, and causing enough of a distraction to break the concentration that kept the other figure suspended in the air. 

The monster screams in pain, one of its tentacle-like appendages thrashing as it bleeds. The monster retreats spitting threats of return and world domination.

You’re frozen in place as what you’ve just seen battles with what you had previously categorized into fact and fiction. This certainly blurs the lines, if not erases them completely. 

Your gaze lands on the broad figure of a warrior, and all thoughts about the androids fall away. He takes staggering steps as he sheaths his swords. Then, head hung low, he drops to his knees. His voice is too quiet to hear from your vantage point, but your shock begins to fade. With the tender way he scoops up his companion's tortured body, you understand he's not one to be feared. 

Slowly, two more figures shuffle toward them, one limping badly, the other cradling an arm to their chest. The light cast by the stars and the sliver of moon is barely enough for you to make sense of what you’re seeing, but after watching a gang of monstrous brains flee from your building, you don’t think anything else can shock you.

But these figures are larger than any man you’ve seen. Broader and taller. Their muscles are thick and their backs are covered in round plated armor, the likes of which you’ve only seen on... turtles. But that can’t be right, can it?  _ Mutant _ warriors?

Your mouth moves silently as you breathe your question in disbelief, “What the-?” But as quiet as you think you are, one of the figures snaps their head in your direction. Even limping, it takes them no time to find your hiding spot. 

This close, there’s no mistaking what they are -- a giant turtle, decked out in the kind of gear that certainly only exists in science fiction. It seems reality is being rewritten tonight?

“Are you hurt?” the turtle asks, cocking their head to the side as they scan you head to toe. 

That’s not the greeting you expected. Concern for your wellbeing isn’t what you expected. You answer with a short shake of your head, “No.”

The turtle stares a bit longer, still assessing, giving you time to take in the sight of him yourself. More shocking than even the sight of a giant, talking, mutant turtle warrior, is the fact that this person is managing to stand. Your expression twists in empathy. His knee appears mangled, though it’s bloodied enough that the bandages strapping it in place must hide the worst of the wound. 

“Are  _ you _ gonna be OK?”

The turtle pulls up short at your concern, so startled that he doesn’t manage to respond before he’s called away by the voice you recognize as the one in command. 

“Donnie! Mikey’s waking up!” The leader shouts and Donnie races back to his companions as fast as his hobbled leg can carry him.

You follow, without hesitation.

The bright sound of a sword being unsheathed stops you in your tracks and your eyes go straight for the moonlight reflecting off the blade pointed at your chest. 

“Who are you?” the leader demands. He’s breathing heavily, bleeding from injuries to his shoulder and neck, cradling an orange-masked turtle to his chest with one arm. 

“I’m someone who can help,” you say. And though you’re still trying to piece together this new reality, you inch forward. The tip of the sword slowly retracts, following you but never piercing your skin. The leader's eyes hold yours with an intensity that spikes your heart rate. You lift your hand to the blade and, careful to avoid the razor sharp edge, push it slowly away. 

“I can help,” you say again. Your voice is gentle, quiet, but full of confidence. You’ve never been one to walk away from someone in need. That’s not how your family raised you. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that these guys were on the good side of the fight. And it’s obvious by the state of their injuries, they’re in great need. 

“We can handle this on our own,” the leader says, his tone stern.

But the body in his arms stirs and groans, and the turtle called Donnie expresses his dissent with a soft sigh, “Leo,” he starts, but he doesn’t finish.

“Mikey needs help,” a gravelly voice insists from behind you. “You gonna let him suffer a trip downtown when there’s someone here who can-”

“We mustn’t expose ourselves," Leo argues. "Secrecy is-”

“Cut the crap, Leo. Look around! Sensei ain’t here. Mikey’s hurt bad.” 

You turn to the voice and swallow hard at the sight of the fourth masked turtle. He’s more imposing than the others, wearing red and a snarl you don’t think could even be improved by a smile. But despite the way he barks at his leader, you don’t think he’s trying to scare you.

“Ya got medical stuff?” he asks, anger mixing with fear. “Ya can really help?”

“Yeah,” you say, overwhelmed by the opportunity to truly be useful. “My mom’s a surgeon. Dad’s a P.I.” Your gaze shifts from Red to Blue. “I really can help.” 


	2. Chapter 2

Your father stumbles over his words as he asks you to repeat yourself. He's caught whispers of a faction of vigilantes working in the shadows, but he could have never imagined mutants. Mutant turtles.

Your mother, of course, takes one look at the state they're in and any concerns she has about who and what they are are swept under the rug. She sees people who need help. People she is in the position to help. So she gets right to it.

The couches usually give ample seating as they wrap around the walls of the living room. Tonight, they make do as beds for the turtles with their firm, but plush cushions and their deep seats. Father covers the cushions with sheets to catch the worst of the blood and grime, but Mother is so caught up in the hustle and bustle of these strangers in need that she doesn’t seem to notice her white carpet is getting stained with it all. 

“Grab me the big kit, sweetheart,” she says to you in a rush. “The one under the bed.”

You’re on it. You turn so quickly, you don’t notice the turtle standing behind you until you’re pressed against his armored chest. “Oh, sorry.”

You look up at him and he looks down at you, eyes narrowing. Their crystal blue color is mesmerizing, so much more human than you would have guessed possible given the rest of him - shell, tail, and all. But beyond the remarkable color of his eyes, you see a depth of pain.

“Excuse me,” he says. His voice is rough with exhaustion, and his gaze slowly turns to his injured companions. “I must see to my brothers.”

You nod as you pass and hurry down the hall to your parents’ bedroom. The first aid kit under the sink was one thing, full of adhesive bandages and a small roll of gauze. Some spray for bee stings and antiseptic wipes. The medical bag your mother stores under her bed is a whole other story. She’s used this kit to stitch your father’s finger after he sliced it making her anniversary breakfast in bed. And set your broken arm while you waited for a taxi to bring you to the hospital. 

By the time you return to the living room, Mother has the turtles arranged along the couch. The one with the most pressing injuries lies in front of her. She’s removing his orange bandana and wiping his head with a damp towel. Mother gives you a small word of thanks for placing the bag beside her.

“Injuries need to be cleaned. Whomever is able is welcome to use the shower. If not, use bottled water to help flush out deeper wounds.” You could see the pinched expression on her face. None of this is ideal. But she has enough sense to keep these men far from the hospital.

The red-banded turtle shifts in his spot. His mouth twists and his shoulders roll as if anxious to get moving. Instead of asking if he’d like to go first, you tell him straight, “The bathroom is down the hallway. The first door on the right. Come on. I’ll get fresh towels from the closet.”

He looks to Leo and receives permission by way of a hum and a nod. 

“Go on, Raph,” Donnie says as he cradles his injured knee. “I’m better off having the doc take a look at this first.”

The couch and Raph both groan as he stands. He follows you to the shower and the look of relief on his face when he finds the wheelchair accessible shower Father had installed for Gran is wide enough for him. The knobs of the shower are self-explanatory and since he doesn’t ask for help, you don’t offer. 

You stack a few towels on top of the sink, place extra bars of soap beside them, and leave him to the rest. 

Mother meets you in the hallway with her jacket and purse in hand. “I need to run out for more supplies. Your father is keeping Gran busy in her room so she doesn’t ask about the commotion. Those young men will be fine while I’m gone, but I want you to continue helping them clean up. Leonardo is wonderful, but he’s trying to do more than he should in his condition.”

She cups your face with her gentle touch and gives you a soft smile. 

“Ma?” you ask, wondering why the tender look in her eyes.

“I’m so proud of you,” she says.

You smile back at her and let her go. 

In the living room, Leo kneels at Michelangelo's side, taking up where your mother had left off. He's silent while Donnie bites back a hiss of pain. 

You rush over to help him with his knee. As you watch the wound, no longer soaking the towel with blood, your brows knit together in curiosity. "Are you... healing already?" 

"Our healing factor is quite remarkable... compared to humans. By my calculations the tissue damage done to my knee will take only a few days to heal, while the cartilage and bone may repair within the week. Based on my study and understanding of human biology, the same injury in a human would require reconstructive surgery."

You slowly nod as he speaks, in awe of him - his existence, his healing factor, his knowledge, his fearless confidence in his body's resilience.

Behind you, Leo huffs and a pair of tweezers clatters in the metal bowl beside him. 

Your gaze darts between Donnie and Leo. Leo’s mouth is set in a hard line, his brow is furrowed with concern. Donnie flexes his leg and wraps clean bandage around his knee. Since it looks like Donnie has things under control, you shift your focus to Mikey and Leo. 

You stand behind Leonardo, the sight of his swords sheathed across his back reminds you of his skill and leadership. But as you watch over his shoulder, you see the source of his frustration as he stares down at his hands. Broad, blunt fingers would be ill-fitted for the delicate work of picking shards of glass and metal from his brother’s wounds. Even if his hands weren’t shaking.

You gently clear your throat and pick up the tweezers from the pan. You kneel beside him, trying to ignore the way his gaze lifts to watch you settle down but finding it impossible to ignore the bulk of him at your side. 

Your arms brush as you reach toward Mikey and he makes a small move to give you room, but the full mass of him is right there, hovering. He’s warm and solid. His breath on your shoulder comes and goes so steadily you think he must be counting each inhale, pause, and exhale. 

Instinct tells you to talk to fill the silence between you. Talking with Donnie was easy. Heck, even getting Raphael into the shower wasn’t too hard. 

But Leo is an imposing figure. He’s their leader. He’s all strength and seriousness. He’s in mourning. He looks over his youngest brother and you can see the weight of his failures in the stoop of his shoulders and the drawn down corners of his mouth.

“My mother will be back any minute,” you say as you pull shards of metal wire from Mikey’s palms. “She’ll have you all patched up and ready to go as soon as she can.”

“We’ll be out of here before her return.”

His confession halts your progress and you turn to get a good look at him. “I think you should stay.”

His eyes widen at your insistence, but you know that you’re right. You think Raph may back you up, if he were around, but he seems mighty comfortable spending his night in the shower. Donnie’s eyes are on the ceiling, pretending he has nothing to do with the conversation. So, you continue.

“Mikey, right?” Delicately taking hold of the unconscious turtle's limp hand, you bring Leo’s focus to his youngest brother. “He stays. If you go, fine. But he stays.”

“I’m not letting him out of my sight.”

“Well, neither am I.” 

Raphael finally shows up with a towel over his shoulders. “Who’s doin’ what now?” He favors his left arm, but you wonder if that’s due to injury or handedness in general. Even the wounds to his side have started to heal, leaving light, smooth scars in the place where stab wounds and slashes were before.

“Mikey stays here," you say with conviction. "He hasn’t woken up yet and my mother would kill me if you all left in your condition.”

“Well, I’m not going yet,” Donnie replies lightly, “I didn’t get my shower. And Raph probably used up all the hot water, so we gotta wait for the boiler to fill.”

Donnie heads to the bathroom while Raph lies back on the couch. He folds back the sheet so he can lie on the couch. And you let him know there are throw blankets and extra pillows in the basket beneath the end table.

“Thanks. Dunno why you’re anxious to leave, Leo. This is real hospitality.” Raph’s jabs would have landed harder if his eyes didn’t flit to Mikey’s unconscious form while he spoke. Raph grabs a book from your father’s stack of crime thrillers and thumbs through it while he waits for Donnie’s return. 

As you fish debris out of Mikey's wounds, Leo paces through the open layout of the apartment. From the kitchen counter to the electric fireplace, he stalks back and forth. Raphael grunts when his brother blocks the lamp light, but he stopped turning pages ten minutes ago. 

Your work on Michelangelo is almost done. His wounds are clear and clean, free to heal without trapping debris under the skin. You can feel Leo’s eyes on you as you spread antibiotic lotions over his cuts and check under the rest of his bandages to see the healing progress of the rest of his wounds. It’s incredible how fast their bodies repair themselves. It makes the fact that Mikey hasn’t woken up yet even more unsettling.

Donatello returns and crashes on the couch next to Raph who’s trying desperately to look like he’s not ready to fall asleep. “Though we heal quickly," Donnie explains, "the process takes a lot out of us. To heal most efficiently, Mikey’s energy is being diverted to his deeper wounds, keeping him unconscious. Raph, on the other hand, is embarrassed by how bad he snores.”

“Hey.” Raphael smacks his brother's chest and Donatello crosses his arms, laughing to himself. 

“I don’ care if ya hear me snore. I just don’ wanna fall asleep and then get woken up by our fearless leader over here, who’s gonna make me carry our little brother back home.”

A quiet voice speaks up from the kitchen. Leo sounds tired and beaten, “We’re staying here for the night. I won’t move Mikey in his condition.”

It’s as if the room itself breathes a sigh of relief. 

Donnie and Raph quietly raid the basket for pillows and blankets, making themselves comfortable enough to sleep on the couch. They're making themselves at home, you think, and that settles some of the anxiety you’d been feeling at not having more room for them to rest. But Donnie and Leo are only half of the story. You tuck Mikey, giving him a whisper of hope and a caress on his cheek, then you join Leo in the kitchen.

Leo stands, hands braced against the counter top, as you approach.

“You’re doing the right thing.” You say, trying not to startle at the way his head snaps up at you. Trying not to shrink away from the raw emotion in his eyes. 

It’s not your place to judge what’s best for his family, but you can’t help but follow the feeling in your gut. And that’s telling you that the brothers came into your life for a purpose. You try to reason with him. “My mother can monitor Mikey and check that everyone’s injuries are healing properly when she returns. And again in the morning.”

He turns his face away from you with a huff and grumbles through his teeth. “We’re not accepting charity.”

You take a step back, confused. They had just fought off an army shouting plans to take over the world. If anything, you were looking for ways to pay them back for their protection, for their sacrifice. “You needed help. We’re doing the best we can.”

Leo doesn’t respond right away, but when he does, his tone doesn’t have the same edge of frustration. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

Careful not to encroach on his space, you approach the table that stands between you. “Well you’re here now. And your brothers are healing. Why don’t you let me take a look at your shoulder?”

He looks at you once again and his icy resolve has been replaced by surprise. As if he thought no one had noticed the way he’s been stooping and favoring his right arm. You’d catalogued his injuries when standing over him as he kneeled tending to Mikey. The lacerations to his shoulder had looked thin but deep and the burns on his shell spanned most of the upper rim. 

You pull out a chair. “Sit.” Your word is gentle but firm. There’s no room for argument. 

He sits.

You take a deep breath as you assess the damage done to his trapezoid. It’s nasty stuff, clean lines but if he doesn’t take it easy and let himself heal, then the cut is going to separate. Your mother may be able to save him from a thick scar if you can convince him to let her stitch it up. For now, you’ll make do as you can with butterfly bandages and gauze.

Your work on him is delicate. He doesn’t say much, but neither do you. You pay close attention to his reactions as you move from his shoulder to his shell. Every hitch of his breath pierces your heart. 

Though he tries to remain silent, it’s clear by his gasps and the way he holds his breath that the burns have made his shell and the skin behind his neck far more tender than his shoulder. After a few minutes, he’s no longer hiding his pain. 

You console him with a smooth drag of your hand over his arm. His thick muscles twitch under your touch, but he doesn’t pull away. He doesn’t make any sound for you to stop.

“I think I got all of the gravel,” you say, giving his bicep and encouraging squeeze. “I’m going to apply some burn ointment. It stings before it soothes. Are you ready?”

Leo sits straighter and gives a short nod. 

You squeeze the ointment onto the wound and spread it with your fingertips. 

Leo grips his knees and pulls in a sharp breath between his teeth. His breaths come in quick, harsh puffs. You pet a wide patch of uninjured shell to ease him through the worst of the pain.

“Think I prefer Father’s poultice to this,” Leo says through clenched jaw. “Makes me want to gag but it doesn’t pack such a punch.”

“You have a father?” You feel like it’s a stupid question the second it comes out of your mouth. They’re brothers, they are a family, it makes sense that they’d have parents.

Leo looks over his shoulder at you. His eyes still wet from the pain of his shoulder. “Our sensei. He took us in when we were first mutated. He’s looked after us all these years. Taught us the way of the ninja.”

“Master Splinter,” you recall from the story he told your parents.

“He’s like a father to us,” Leo explains. “He’d never let us accept help from humans. We were never supposed to be seen.”

“So, now what?” You’re not afraid of Leo, but the way he speaks about his father with reverence and deference, has you worried for your family about what it means to be the only humans who have encountered these mutant vigilantes.

Leo places his hand on yours. “We’ll protect you.”

“From your father?”

“No. No, he’d never want any harm to come to you. Especially not after all that you’ve done for us. But you’ve placed yourself at great risk with the Krang. And the Krang isn’t the only danger out there.”

You look down at your joined hands. Leo’s thumb brushes your inner wrist as he speaks. You wonder if he realizes the movement at all. 

“We’ll protect you,” he says again. He seems to notice his hand is still on yours and drops it quickly. He turns so you can no longer see his face. “As payment for your kindness and medical care. We are in your debt.”

Your stomach twists at the loss of his touch. You stare at the back of his head for a moment before turning to the table to pack away Mother’s supplies. “Thanks,” you say shortly, zipping up the bag. “Looks like the shower is free. And your brothers left you plenty of space on the floor to sleep.”

“I won’t sleep. Someone needs to keep watch.”

You nudge the burn ointment over the tabletop. “For after your shower,” you say. And, with your stomach still in knots, you bring the medical equipment back to the living room. 


	3. Chapter 3

You wake just as the sun comes up and in truth you’ve barely gotten any sleep at all. In the living room, Donnie, Mikey, and Raph snore soundly. Your father putters around the kitchen, making coffee and whipping up eggs for quiche. 

“I imagine they’ll be hungry. It’s got protein and I’m sure reptiles eat eggs. They are reptiles, aren’t they?” Your father rambles when he’s nervous. Of course, a house full of strangers - mutant strangers - would have him on edge. “Gram will be up in an hour or so to watch the news and take her meds. Do you think… Well, no they’re too big to hide, aren’t they?”

“Dad…” you smile sweetly at his concerns, “it’s going to be OK.” Bitterly, you remember Leo’s reluctance to accept your family’s help. How he acted like it was an inconvenience to him. You remember the eager way he pulled his hand away from yours. “Have you seen Leo? I can ask him when they plan to ship out.” You doubt he’d want to ‘accept charity’ or ‘overstay his welcome’ or ‘drum up more debt,’ or whatever Leo is calling it this morning.

Your Dad points with the egg soaked whisk, indicating the rooftop as he catches drips with his bowl. “I checked on him. He’s a troubled young man.”

You roll your eyes and start a kettle of tea for yourself. But when you open the cabinet for a mug, you take down a pair of travel mugs without much of a thought. Looking down at the mugs, you sigh knowing you’ll bring tea for Leo in spite of the pinched feeling in your chest. Once both mugs are prepared and sealed, you take your jacket off the hook and head for the window. 

"The stairwell works, you know," Father says as you reach for the window latch. 

You give you father a shrug and accept the cups of tea he passes through the window to you on the fire escape. "Thanks."

"Don't be too hard on him," your father says, somehow reading your thoughts. "I think he's punishing himself up there, blaming himself for what happened to his brothers."

"Did Mikey wake up yet?" you ask with concern.

You're relieved by your father's nod. "Mom checked him out before he fell asleep again. They're all going to be fine. Could use some more rest though."

Father closes the window behind you and you make the climb up the metal stairs to the roof.

You find Leo slowly carrying out a series of movements. You assume it's a form of Tai Chi or Yoga. Careful not to disturb him, you take a seat by the ladder and allow yourself to be lured by the strength of his forms. 

Leo turns, pulling his fists to his hips as he takes a wide stance. Facing you, he comes to a stop, expels a measured breath, and meets your gaze. "I know why you're here.”

"You do?"

Another slow breath. "I mapped a route,” he says, his tone devoid of emotion. “If we leave before the top of the hour, we'll have enough cover to make it to the sewers."

"I'm not here to kick you out. I brought tea.” You gesture to the mugs sitting beside you and cross your arms over your chest. “And Father's making breakfast. You'd be rude to leave now."

Leo seems invulnerable to your attempts at humor. "We can't impose ourselves on you any longer."

How can he think your family is trying to push them out, when all they’ve done is ask them to stay, to recover. "You're not an imposition. Don't you get that? Your brothers are hurt, Leo. You're hurt."

Leo walks over, and reluctantly takes the mug when it’s offered. "We heal quickly," he assures you, blowing carefully over the tea before taking a sip. His stubbornness, however, doesn’t blind you to his lingering injuries.

"You were dropping your arm while you did your karate thing. The left side was always a bit slower than your right. Tell me that was deliberate."

Leo rolls his shoulder. Though he manages to suppress a wince, his eyes go tight at the corners. "It's nothing."

"It'll matter in a fight."

"I'll be back to rights by nightfall. Krang won't attack during the light of day. Not yet, at least."

"So that settles it.” You smile. You’ve won. “Wait til nightfall."

Inside, everyone was seated around the table for breakfast. Everyone. 

You pulled up short, seeing Gram's chair at the head of the table. "Gram, you're… in the kitchen..."

Grandmother purses her lips. "I got hungry dear and I could smell your father overcooking the quiche again."

You scan the room, wondering what her reaction had been to the mutants. "So you came out to help and..."

"And found there was no need.” She gave a light chuckle. “Donatello had it under control. Finally got the oven calibrated. And that Raphael,” she pet his arm and he seemed to melt under her attention, “such wonderful knife skills."

"What about Mikey?"

"Oh,” she says, smiling affectionately, “he's eaten half the donuts in the box."

Mikey scowls, powdered sugar dusting his lips and fingertips. "Hey, lay off. It's all part of the healing process. OK?” He stuffs another donut hole into his mouth, muffling his voice. “I was gravely injured, dudes. I need proper sustenance to repair the damage."

Raph snorts as crumbs fall into Mikey’s lap. "Yeah, too bad them donuts ain't cure brain damage."

"Uh huh," Donatello smirks at both of his younger brothers and Raph kicks him under the table. 

“You’re one t’ talk, _brainiac_.” It’s a curious exchange. Raphael both poking fun of and defending Mikey nearly in the same breath.

Leo sighs at your side before addressing his brothers. "Get your strength up, guys. Help out where you can.” To your grandmother and father, Leo gives a small bow. “We thank you for your hospitality. You've been gracious hosts and your medical assistance has been invaluable. I'm sorry to impose ourselves upon your family for any longer than truly necessary, but-"

"But nothin," Raph says, swallowing hard to clear a mouthful of pancakes. You see Gram sneaking more turkey bacon onto the big guy's plate. "They said we could stay. Donnie called Splinter. It's all good, bro. Sit. Eat. Chill."

Mindful of his injuries, but going along with his brother’s playful spirit, you nudge Leo with an elbow. "Yeah, bro. Chill.” You know Splinter’s approval goes a long way, but you think seeing his brothers well and comfortable around your family has allowed Leo to breathe easier. He doesn’t resist when you push him toward an empty chair.

The rest of the day goes by better than you could have imagined. Who knew they guys were as obsessed with retro gaming as your cousins? 

Mikey isn't feeling well enough to pick up a controller, but he's quick to offer insights and cheat codes for the game. 

Leo spends most of the time fussing over his younger brothers. He makes sure there are snacks and water, breaks from screen time, and injury checks. It seems like Mikey passing up his turns in video games is really out of character for the guy. Leo watches him closer than the rest. 

The concern Leo shows for his brothers niggles at your heart. It pushes aside the parts of him that annoy you to make room for growing respect. Affection for the man sneaks up on you, warming your chest before you realize it’s there. 

Leo stands beside the TV, waving a tea towel in front of his brother’s faces, announcing it's time for dinner. You almost want to laugh at the scene. His brothers sprawled over the living room fighting over controllers and bags of pretzels, while he clucks at them like a mother hen.

But then something about it kind of clicks. You get it. You understand why he's stern and focused. He's taken it upon himself to be the responsible one. And his brothers are able to goof off, able to have these hours of fun, because of that.

"We're heading out after we eat,” Leo says as Donnie turns off the TV. Leo skips over you as he takes turns looking all of his brothers in the eye. "Get this place cleaned up." 

Dinner is full of laughing and teasing, carried over from the evening’s gaming. You think you even spot a smile on Leo's face once or twice. 

You pass him the basket of bread and catch his eye. You're grateful for the moment he spends looking at you, still smiling at his brothers’ warm-heartedly debate with Gran on whether or not milk belongs in tea. 

It’s sad to see them go, but you don’t expect the guys to return so soon. 

Donatello is the one at the window, not four hours later. 

Just when you were getting water, about to turn in for bed, you hear a knock on the window. You jump at the sound. The glass in your hand slips into the sink. 

Donnie keeps to the shadows on the fire escape. The news he brings is devastating. His eyes don’t meet yours when he speaks and his tone of voice sounds discordantly flat compared to the news he brings, but you know he’s telling the truth. There’s no way anyone would lie about this.

“The Lair, our home, has been destroyed.”

With an arm outstretched toward the kitchen chairs, you invite him to sit, but he remains crouched outside the window in the dark. 

“We have to find somewhere to lie low. Leo will say it’s selfish to ask… that we can’t ask for more from your family… but it’s the only way I see it, that we can be safe and keep your family safe as well.”

Your blood runs cold. “My family? You think we’re at risk.”

“I honestly don’t know. But it stands to reason that anywhere we’ve been is at risk. We can defend your home, your family, if we are here. Or nearby. Perhaps there’s someplace-”

“No. Stay. Gran knows you guys now. I can spend the night in her room. You can spread out between mine and the living room. It’s not ideal, but it could work. Right?”

Donnie's eyes close as he considers what he's lost. “It’s more than we have. It’s more than-”

“It’s yours. I’ll talk to my parents. You know they’ll say yes." Shelter isn't the only help your family can provide. "My father will help anyway he can to find out who did this. And my mother, well, you know she’s fascinated by you guys.”

“Yeah.” There's a small shift in Donatello's stance that makes you retrace your words searching for the source of his discomfort.

“You don't like her poking around, do you?”

“We don’t want to be an experiment. A freakshow.”

“I don't think she sees.you like that, Donatello. But I’ll tell her to back off with the questions about your biology, if that helps.”

Donatello nods, but then shrugs. “I’ll tell her what I can. She's a doctor. If she's really going to help, she'll need to know.”

“Only what you’re comfortable sharing." You know Donatello has taken on the bulk of 

medical care for his siblings. He's the expert. If he's acknowledging a need for your mother's help, there must be something about these new enemies, a new danger, he fears. 

Concern fills the pit in your stomach. "Where are your brothers?”

Donatello's gaze slides to his right. “Mikey’s here.”

You peer out to see the youngest turtle perched upon the fire escape stairs, camouflaged by shadow. “Why don’t you guys come in?”

“...Cause,” Mikey says rubbing his hands together before giving you a stiff, lop-sided grin, “we’re takin’ you out.”

Your gaze passes between them and Donatello raises a hand to help you through the window. “Out?”

There's a graveness to Donatello's voice that makes Mikey's cheerfulness seem even more forced. “You asked where my brothers are. Well, Mikey’s here, yeah. But Raph and Leo…”

“They’re totally buggin, man.” Mikey's smile is still in place, but you see him swallow hard. You see the twitch at the corner of his eye as he struggles to keep his mood light.

Donatello nods solemnly. “You got through to Leo before. He doesn’t want to ask your family for more. But if you come-”

“I’ll come," you agree quickly. "Of course, I’ll come. Just… let me change clothes?” 

Your search for a jacket takes longer than ever. Your mind races and your body quivers with excitement. It was one thing to invite them into your home after watching them fight, after seeing them injured. It’s another thing to be invited into their home. No, what did Donatello call it? Their Lair. 

You’re about to step into their world. A world of mutants and monsters. And you’re far less frightened than you think you should be. 


	4. Chapter 4

The way to The Lair is wet and cold. You should have worn rain boots. You should have listened when Leo said they lived in the sewers. You thank god he meant the water runoff and not raw waste, though you can’t imagine the guys living in filth. They were well-mannered and hygienic, as far as their stay at the apartment let you see. 

You hear the others before you see them. Loud, heavy sounds of concrete shifting and crumbling. Debris and broken furniture arc through the air as they're tossed from one pile to another. The routine kicks up dust, but does little to repair the home.

“Raph,” Donatello whispers and Mikey jogs toward the mess.

A slab of concrete flies Mikey’s way. “Watch it, bro. I’m too pretty to get busted. Don’t wanna mug like yours to scare off the honeys.”

Raph ignores his little brother’s jokes and tosses another slab with a grunt. 

“Here, here, lemme help.” Mikey picks up a few stones and skips one across the floor into the concrete pile. “Little bit o’ brick over there… what’s this-” he lifts a shard of wood for inspection before lobbing it toward a different pile “-a little bit o’ table over there.” He gives his brother a wide, goofy smile, “How am I doin’ so far?”

Raph continues to ignore him.

“Come on, Raphie, this is pointless.”

“It ain’t pointless." Raphael can't look at any of them. He stares only at the rubble spilling into the tunnel. "This is our home. We gotta have a home.”

You take a step forward, careful to stay out of the path of flying debris. “You can stay with us. Until this place is safe. Or until you find somewhere new.”

“Ain’t nowhere new gonna take us." Raphael says, despite your claim. You understand he means long-term. And you know it's true. Even your parents can't house them forever. You can't expect them to sleep on the living room floor and be comfortable.

"...'sides," he grumbles, "Leo ain't leavin', I ain't leavin'."

Mikey picks up a bigger piece of mortared brick and heaves it into Raph's designated pile. 

Donatello gives a deep sigh as he watches them give in to the fruitless work. "Let's find Leo," he says to you, not letting himself be defeated yet.

You find Leo in the dojo, kneeling in meditation before a felled tree. The flowering branches and wide trunk must have made a beautiful focal point for the room, before the trunk had been cleaved in two. 

Though it goes against your instincts to bother Leo in this place, Donatello urges you onto the large straw mat.

A slow, quiet approach seems most appropriate, and you kneel beside him, mimicking his form. You're sure he's sensed your presence, but he doesn't say a word. 

Leo's eyes are closed, his breathing even. It takes you a minute to notice the moisture gathering along the seam of his eyelids.

You wave Donatello off with the gentlest of smiles and wait until he is gone, until you and Leo are alone, before you reach out. You lay your hand atop Leo's as it rests on his knee and you keep it there when he doesn't protest or pull away.

His chest jumps as his breath hitches, but his tears don't fall. His eyes don't open. The only conscious movement he makes is to lift his thumb to hold your hand closer to his.

Pulling Raphael and Mikey away from the rubble isn’t so hard once they see Leo is walking with you. He still doesn’t speak, and no one has mentioned the absence of their father. 

“You should grab what you need," you say to the group. "There’s only a few hours until the sun comes up.”

Raphael kicks at a stone and shrugs his shoulders forward. “Gonna leave somethin’ for Splinter, right, Donnie?”

“There’s a message for him," Donnie says, the computer keys clacking under his fingers. "He’ll have to use the emergency cypher, but he’ll know where we are. He’ll know we’re safe and accounted for.”

Mikey shifts his weight and looks up, his wide eyes hopeful. “Can I bring some stuff from my room?”

You nod. “Whatever you want.” You'd never keep him from bringing along a piece of home. 

Beside you, Leo tenses, but remains silent.

Raphael and Mikey rush to their room, climbing over rubble and broken furniture to get there. Donatello gives you a short bow and a word of thanks. “We might be a while,” he warns.

You can’t help but yawn as you wave him off. “Go, go. Take as much time as you need.”

“They know the way,” Leo says, his first words of the night. “I can bring you home if you wish.”

You look at him, ready to protest, but see the stoic expression he wears is only a thin mask to hide his pain. “Thank you.”

Leo helps you over dangerous areas of the tunnels, more cautious with you than his brothers were. It’s equal parts irritating and sweet. You handled yourself just fine on the way in, but you let him take care of you like this. It seems like he needs to feel in control of something and this is a little thing you can give.

“You should have worn more practical footwear,” he says when he sees your water-logged sneakers. 

“Next time." Gripping his hand, you let him haul you over a pile of rubble. 

He catches you at the waist, holding you close for a second longer than necessary before easing you down the other side. “Won’t be a next time.” His words sound final. “I’ve been wanting to move the Lair for a while now. There’s a subway station…”

“Oh yeah?”

“It’s been abandoned for quite some time. I’ve had my eye on it. Didn’t want to move the guys because… well, because the sewers have been our home for as long as we can remember. But I should have acted sooner. I should have told them what I found. I could have avoided this whole-”

“Can I see?” you interrupt his self-depricating rant, knowing that to let him continue on that path wouldn’t do anyone any good. “The subway spot. If you think it’s safe. Can I see?”

Leo turns to face you, to really look at you for the first time since dinner, and offers a slow nod. “Ok.”

The station is a mess. Full of cobwebs and old crates. There’s an abandoned train still on the track. Most of the train's doors have been rusted open. The seat cushions are dry rotted and falling apart. But there’s promise. There are options. And when you turn to Leo, you can see hope.

“I think you should tell them about this place.”

Leo doesn’t argue. He wasn’t going to keep it a secret any longer. Especially not now, when they need this place more than ever. 

“I can fix it up with you before you do, if you want. If you think it’ll help.”

Leo doesn’t say anything at that, but stacking old crates against a wall, so you follow his lead. 

You leave the heaviest lifting for him, taking it upon yourself to clean out the cobwebs and clear off the platform. 

The place will need furniture. And the guys could stand to tear out the train seats to fit each car with a bed and other things to make their rooms more liveable. But you can tell it’s going to be good. They could make it something great.

You look over the station with a feeling of accomplishment. Leo, however, isn’t yet satisfied. 

He looks at his phone and swears under his breath. “It’s almost 5. I have to get you home.”

The news comes as a surprise. You didn’t realize you’d been working all night. Each crate stacked and cobweb swept clean had energized you. You’d felt a renewed sense of productivity, a sense of purpose. You were moving toward a tangible goal for the first time in a long time. This wasn’t the same old routine you’ve been walking through at your day job. This was building a new home for new friends. 

You follow Leo through the path and up to a set of stairs to street level. There’s a small restaurant beside an alley. 

“Won’t they see us? Hear us?” You glance around quickly to see if you've been spotted, but Leo leads you down the alley with an air of calm. 

“Old man’s losing his hearing," he says. He makes giving you a boost to the restaurant's low roof look effortless. "His husband’s been bugging him to get hearing aids but he keeps pretending like he didn’t hear him make the suggestion.”

“Funny.”

Leo’s hard frown softens a moment, giving way to the briefest fond smile. “It’s cute.”

“You want that someday?”

“What, hearing aids?” Leo walks past you without giving you a chance to correct him. 

You let him lead as your heart twists and sinks. Why had you asked? Even if he wanted love and companionship, they probably weren’t things a guy like him could have. Sure, he can charm the rings off Gram’s fingers. And anyone would admire the passion he has for taking care of his family. But he’s still a mutant turtle. One with rippling muscles and big, blue eyes, a husky voice, and a gentle touch. But, a turtle. Not many people would look past that. It’s likely Leo won’t let many people look past that, if he’d let people see him at all.


	5. Chapter 5

As expected, your parents welcome the turtles into their apartment, offering them a safe space for as long as necessary. Their only concern is for the wellbeing of their new friends. 

“Just for the day,” Leo tells your family, and his brothers look up, none protesting but clearly confused. “I have a place,” Leo explains. “It’s not set up or anything. We have a lot of work to do. Donnie, you’ll need help bringing stuff your stuff up from the sewers and we’ll have to abandon the van for a while-”

“Whaddaya mean, ya have a place?” Raphael sits forward, leaning onto his knees where he sits at Gram’s feet helping her roll cakes of yarn.

“An abandoned subway station. It’s not perfect, but it’s ours.”

Donatello rubs his chin. “Subway?”

“Are there trains?” Mikey’s open expression is full of wonder and hope. 

“Yeah. There’s a car for each of us. No more bunk sharing or falling all over each other, fighting for space. But, the place needs some work.”

"Oh." Mikey's enthusiasm wavers as he spares half a glance toward Raphael, but he smiles up at Leo. "That's cool, bro!"

"Yeah, Leo." Donatello adds from the kitchen. "Sounds great."

Leo tries not to take their drop in enthusiasm personally. But after all the work he’s putting in - searching for a place, fixing it up - even this slight rejection hurts. "Look, I wish we could get an apartment and play house with all this fancy stuff too, alright? But don't get used to it. This isn't our life. It's never going to be. The subway's gonna be good for us. You'll see."

" 'Course it is, man. You always know what's best." Raphael sounds sincere, but Leo turns in a huff as if his brothers had turned up their snouts at his announcement.

"I'll show you to a room where you can get some rest," you say gently. The whirlwind of the past 36 hours must have him exhausted. You could use some sleep as well. 

Leo thanks you for access to the shower and for the bed, your bed, your room. And he turns himself in. 

You call out of work and get a few hours of sleep before restlessness kicks in. You're not used to sleeping during the day. When you wake up, the guys are in various states of unrest as well. 

Leo still hasn't come out.

Donnie announces, "He's asleep," and his brothers don't question it. But you raise an eyebrow at his quick assessment. "I compared his breathing against known patterns. It helps to know the difference between Leo asleep, Leo meditating, and Leo pretending to do either."

"Didn't take him for one to play pretend."

“He keeps his secrets," Raphael says, his tone a bit bitter. There's a history there, you think. "But he's always got his reasons. Thinks he knows what's best for us." Raphael shrugs, as if coming to a conclusion he's come to before. "He usually does." 

No one is surprised when Leo sleeps through the day. And no one blames him. But when the pizza delivery fills the apartment with the smell of hot tomato sauce and melted cheese, they all expect him to show at the table. He doesn't, and even Mikey can't make his "More for me, then" sound free of his worry.

"Is he gonna be alright? If we leave him?" You want to go to him. You barely know Leo, but he's let you see him vulnerable before. You think maybe his vulnerability is one of the things his brothers know he hides. Maybe he doesn't realize they see. Anyway, you don't want to force him.

"Sensei usually knows what to do."

"Splinter-” you nod along “-have you heard from him? Is he coming?"

Donatello shakes his head, but doesn't seem concerned. "His last transmission noted his safety. He'll contact us again soon."

You pick olives off your pizza and line them up as you think aloud. "Until then, you'll help Leo with the station?"

Raphael piles three slices onto his plate, before lifting a fourth from the box straight to his mouth. "We go where Leo goes. He found us a spider-infested death trap to live in… we'll go."

An olive slips off the rim of your plate. "How did you know it was spider-infested?"

"Ya came in before covered in cobwebs and shit. But whatever. Sewer wasn't no palace either." There’s no embarrassment or judgment in Raph’s tone. Leo should be here, hearing his brothers support his decision. 

"He seems really excited about it. I mean… hopeful, y'know?"

"Yeah." Donatello passes you his slices of mushrooms and you pass them on to Mikey who gobbles them up with gusto. "We never said we didn't like the idea. It's just not home, that's all."

You can sympathize. "We moved around a lot when I was younger. Always trying to find a better placement for mom. A safer community for me to grow up in. It wasnt the house that made it home. It was having my family around."

"Yeah, yeah,” Raph grumbles. “Real Hallmark life changing stuff. But he's not worried about keeping us together, remember? We each get a car to ourselves. He's splittin us up."

Mikey goes quiet, stops eating, drops his hands into his lap. 

You don’t know what to do, what to say, to make this better. You think, if they would just talk to Leo about this, it could all be straightened out. But the rest of the meal is silent. It seems the brothers don’t even feel up to talking to each other.

When Leo emerges from the room, he announces it's time to go. "We have to patrol. They tried to hit us where it hurts. But we're resilient. And we’re not going to let the Krang take our city.”

You narrow your eyes at Leo and wonder if he’s ignoring the strain on his brothers - or if he just can’t see it. You wonder if he can read the loss in their eyes, if he can understand that ordering them to brush themselves off and push through another night of patrol might not be in their best interest right now.

Leo stands taller. “I said, we’re moving out. Let’s go.”

Donatello is the first to stand from the table. He grabs his pack from behind the couch and waits by the window while Leo opens it and climbs into the night. Raphael knocks Mikey’s shoulder and jerks his head toward their brothers as if to say, “We better head out too.”

“I’m sorry you couldn’t stay longer.” You look at their plates of half eaten food and wonder why Leo hadn’t at least let them finish. 

“Forget about it,” Raph says with half a frown. “We knew it wouldn’t last.”

“Yeah, right,” Mikey agrees, heading for the fire escape. “We don’t belong in some fancy place like this. But I really like how the carpets match the drapes.”

The observation awards him a smack on the arm. 

“What? What’d I say?”

“Kids,” Raphael chuckles, embarrassed for everyone in the room. “He doesn’t know what he’s talkin’ about. Excuse us.” He ushers Mikey out and refuses to explain innuendo to his little brother. “Thanks for all the, uh… thanks.”

Mikey looks back at your family before he leaves. “I really do like the-” his compliment becomes a shout of surprise as Raphael tears him away from the window and to the roof.

Over the next few nights, you get rather used to seeing turtles on the roof. The Krang’s forces are growing in number, but as they continue to remain in hiding, everything feels like speculation. And so, the turtles rotate watch on your building. It makes stargazing more interesting. Especially on nights when Donatello is around. Raphael is kind of a mess. Always on high alert and rarely interested in standing still long enough to enjoy something as simple and amazing as the moon and stars. But Donatello is full of knowledge about the cosmos. 

Some nights you and Donnie discuss the possibility of life on other planets. It seems like Donnie enjoys the distraction, until you realize he’s talking about the likelihood of alien attacks. 

Mikey has a special interest in astrology, which surprises and delights you to no end. He loves telling you his brothers’ horoscopes and making connections within their lives to prove how absolutely on point astrology is. 

Finally, you ask, “How do you know when your birthdays are? I mean, weren’t you all exposed to the mutagen at the same time?”

Mikey explains, “It’s all in the stars. I didn’t choose our birthdays. Our birthdays chose us.” And points to the astrological chart in his lap as if it held the answers to the universe, which, if he were to argue the point, it did. 

You just nodded, letting him have his way. 

Leo doesn’t patrol your roof. Not once. Not, like, ever. And you’ve looked for him. You’ve asked about him. But the most you’ve ever gotten is a weird sigh from Raphael and some grumbling about Leo cleaning up his own messes. 

After two weeks, you drop the subject of Leo completely. If he doesn’t want to see you, then you definitely don’t want to see him. 

“How is the new place coming along?”

Mikey rocks from side to side on the edge of the building where the two of you have been tearing up bits of dying leaves and let them float on the wind. “I got my own room.”

Through the corner of your eye, you catch Mikey worrying his bottom lip and decide to wait for him to say more before responding. 

“I’m right between Donnie and Raph. It’s pretty cool. I got a bed. And, uh, my music and stuff is all set up. But Raph took half the comic books. Donnie said I can borrow the textbooks anytime I want but…”

“What was your set up like before?”

“Huh?”

“At the Lair. Did you each have your own room?”

“Oh. No. Well, Leo did. He and Donnie had their own. Raphie and I shared,” Mikey’s voice got quieter as he spoke.

“What was it like, rooming with Raph?”

“It sucked. He smells bad after workouts and his cologne smells worse. And he says I snore. And he always moved my stuff and used my headphones without asking.”

“And you miss him.”

“And I miss- Hey…”

“It’s OK to miss him.” You pass Mikey a new leaf to tear. “I bet he misses you, too.”

“I bet he misses my headphones. For sure. He’s always breaking his.”

“He ever break your stuff?”

“Nah. Never. I wasn’t scared he was gonna break ‘em. I just didn’t want them smelling like Fierce by Abercrombie & Fitch.”

You laugh at that and Mikey loosens up a bit. “You share a wall with Raph, right?”

Mikey shrugs. “Kinda. Like a window.”

You lean back on your hands for support and look up at the sky with a smile. “I have an idea.”


	6. Chapter 6

Maybe Mikey should have called ahead to say you were coming down. Maybe you should have asked permission from Leo, their appointed leader, to enter their new home. But Mikey invited you and you hadn’t heard from Leo in almost two weeks. Maybe Leo shouldn’t be shutting you out when all you’ve ever done is be there to help.

The platform looks great. Donnie’s setup spans the entire western wall. You think he must run himself tired going up and down the line, but the skateboard under his feet helps him make it a quick and easy ride from one end of his work station to the other. 

“Raph’s down there, probably.” Mikey waves down the tracks. “Streets have been kinda quiet. It makes him uneasy. 'specially when we know the Krang are out there, but we can’t find ‘em.”

“Dare I ask about-”

“Leo? Heh. He’s probably training. Sensei has him working on finding balance." Mikey walks the rail with ease, one foot in front of the other. "You see, Leo’s been all kinds of bent outta shape since he walked out on you.”

“Leo didn’t walk out on anybody, Mikey,” you say with a frown.

With a leap, he turns to you. “Anyway! Leo’s been having some trouble focusing so… he’s in the ha'shi.”

You let Mikey lead the way up the opposite end of the platform until you hear a stern voice barking commands. “Find your center, Leonardo. Strength, speed, stealth… these are things that can waver, can fail, and still you keep focus on your path.”

“Yes, Master Splinter.”

You watch, with Mikey, from the edge of the small room. It must have been designated for another track, but it’s far more run down than the one Leo chose for his family. 

Leonardo’s muscles strain and tremble as he holds himself on the ropes suspended overhead. His twin swords cut through the air like a dance.

“He’s really something else.”

“Huh?” Raphael comes up behind you smelling every bit as bad as Mikey promised he would. “Oh, yeah, he’s a real piece o’ work.” 

Raphael raises his voice as he claps for his brother, “Good work, Leo! Nice form, brutha! Dropping that left still, but you’re comin’ around!”

All the cajoling doesn’t break Leonardo’s focus for an instant. 

“I wonder if he even notices I’m here,” you say to no one. 

“You ain’t said Hi to our guest yet? Come on, man, we raised you betta than that, Leo!”

Leo does a double take at his brothers, at you standing between them, and loses concentration. All it takes is one instant of distraction to have him falling from the ropes onto his shell.

“Ha ha!” Raph and Mikey bump fists. 

Seeing they made Leo fall, you figure Splinter is going to have it out for the younger turtles, but the sensei's frustration is focused on Leo alone. “You mustn’t be so easily distracted, Leonardo. Clear your mind.”

Leo sits up and shakes off the shock of impact. 

Splinter follows Leo’s line of sight to you. “This is the cause of your distraction? Of your failures? This human?”

You don’t think you should be insulted. You’re the outsider here. And if what Splinter is saying is true, then you’re dangerous. You’re dangerous if your presence means Leo’s unfocused, if it means that Leo has been making mistakes. 

You swallow hard and bite your tongue and wait for Leonardo to say something. To stand up for you, to throw you under the bus. To say anything that would give you a clue as to how to respond.

“You. You.” Splinter points his gnarled staff from you to Leonardo and then raps it against the cement at his feet. “Speak. Communication. Trust. Honor.”

You think there will be more. More explanation. More reprimand. But Splinter taps his staff against the floor again, and then he’s gone. You think he walks out. You’re pretty sure he walks out. He can’t just disappear. Can he?

Your eyes are drawn back to Leo at the sound of him shuffling on the straw mat. “He’s right," you say, wishing you didn't have to. "If I’m a distraction, I should stay out of your way.”

Leo rubs his shell as he stands. “Then why did you come?”

“Mikey… he-”

“Mikey? Of course it was. Of course it was Mikey, or Donnie, or Raph.”

There's an accusation in his words. It fans your frustration with him into anger. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Leo huffs, throws up his hands, and gathers up his katanas from the ground. 

“You’re never around, Leo. They look out for me and my family. They kept their promise to look after us.”

Leo's eyes are piercing. He sheaths his swords at his back without dropping his gaze. “I kept my promise.”

“Then where have you been?” 

“I stayed away. The Krang is looking for me. I’m not going to lead them back to you. Not again." Squaring his shoulders, Leo faces you head on. His words are stiff. But he places a hand over his heart, and you remember the soft warmth of that hand under yours. "I swore I would protect your family, on my honor. And I am doing that. By staying away, by keeping my brothers close. But you…”

“Me? What about me? I’ve offered you everything. And you pushed me away." That day on the mat, when everything was broken but Leo held you close, feels like it was a lifetime ago. "So, what? You’re mad that I made friends with your brothers? They were there, Leo.”

Leo wrings his hands in front of him as he begins walking forward and back. When his paces draw him near, you can see the tightness in his jaw, the flush of his cheeks, the shine of unshed tears in his eyes. “Mikey’s been upset since we came down here. I thought it was just the move, but it was more than that… He opened up to you.”

“And you’re mad?”

“He opened up to you! You’re a stranger!” No, it isn’t anger in his voice. 

“I’m a friend,” you say softer. “To them and I thought to you too.”

“I’m their brother. Their leader.: He presses his lips together and you think, maybe, his chin is trembling. You think, maybe, there is sadness in his wavering tone. “They're supposed to come to me. I’m supposed to see when they need me.”

“Sometimes people need a friend though. To talk to someone outside of the family, someone who isn’t their older brother.” After that moment in the old dojo, Leo must understand what it is to hide. “Mikey didn’t go to you because... he can see you’re doing the best you can. That you’re trying so hard to hold it all together. Didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”

"You don't know us like that. You don't get to have us like that. He's my brother. My responsibility."

Raising a hand to hold his, to comfort him like the night when the Lair was destroyed, you come forward. "You take on so much, Leo."

But he considers your outstretched hand with a hard stare. "No. You think you know me. You're too familiar. You saw what you shouldn't have seen."

"It's not a weakness to need someone sometimes."

"I don't need you. We don't need you." 

You stare at Leo and let what he says really sink in, for him and for you. Your parents taught you to notice when someone is hurting. They instilled it in you to help when you can. But you won’t stay where you’re unwanted. 

With a nod you acknowledge Leo’s rejection. Though his words expressed his wish to be left alone, he pales as you take a step back. He inhales a sharp breath as you withdraw your support. But when you walk away, he doesn’t ask you to stay.

Splinter waits for you at the edge of the mat, staff in hand, scowl in place. 

“He doesn’t want to talk,” you say. You’re tired. You’re tired of giving yourself and being cast aside. 

Splinter’s voice is deep and broken. “Then make him listen.”

You turn. And without taking any steps toward Leo, you raise your voice to grab his attention. "I'm going to help Mikey with his room. He misses Raph. That's the big secret. He isn't used to having his own room and he isn't sleeping through the day.” Leo doesn’t even look up. Too focused on polishing his swords. 

You sigh before continuing, hoping he’ll listen. “He's hurting, not because you did anything wrong or because he's mad at anything you did. He's just having a hard time with the transition. If Raph agrees, we're gonna make windows between them so when Mikey needs to, they can hear each other."

At that, Leo pauses his work. "They'll keep each other up. Pick on each other until I come down on them."

"Is that what they used to have?"

Leo wipes his blades with a cloth and shrugs.

"Then maybe that's what they need, for now."

Leo’s quiet for a long while. You consider leaving, but something in your gut tugs you to go over to him instead.

He still hasn’t lifted his gaze, when he grumbles, "How did you get so smart?"

Your self-deprecating laugh comes out in huff. "I'm not.” You remember that night on the roof, when you should have run, but moved closer to the action instead. “I saw a fight between mutants and an alien and got caught. I'm reckless."

Leo offers the barest shake of his head. "You saw Mikey was hurt. You stuck your neck out for us.” There’s a glance where your eyes meet and you forget to breathe. “You got a big heart."

Your response is a whisper. "Right back at ya.”

There's a pause, a quiet. When Leo's cloth runs down the blade again, it doesn't feel like he’s putting on a show. Doesn’t feel like he’s trying to ignore or dismiss your company. It's routine. He's caring for his blades and you're there with him. 

You take a seat on the mat and pick at the laces on your shoe. "Heart's not a bad thing, y'know. Loving your family, it's what drives you. I've always admired that about you."

"My family needs me. I have to think with my head, not my heart.” And just like that, Leo’s starts building his walls of defense, brick by brick. “I've seen what thinking with one's heart can do to a person. Passion clouds the mind.”

Leo rolls his shoulders, focuses on his task as he strengthens his resolve. "I fight because to walk away would be cowardly and shameful. It would bring dishonor to my family.” You wonder if those are his true beliefs or if they’re ones drilled into him by his father. “I fight because I am able. I am strong where others are vulnerable."

It breaks your heart to hear him pit strength and vulnerability against each other, as if they are mutually exclusive. "A reed before the wind lives on, while mighty oaks do fall.”

Leo gives only a hum in reply.

“It's ok to be vulnerable every once in a while. Better to bend than break.” You move closer to him as he oils the pommel. “Leo, you used to let me see you. Really see you. What changed?"

You place your hand on his blade and push it away with easy pressure. "Leo."

He lays the sword and cloth on the floor and looks at you with open palms. "I don't know if I can be both."

"Both?"

There’s a different kind of tension in his shoulders. Not the kind that he wears when he’s closing himself off, but the kind he wears when he’s trying to open himself up. "I don't know if I can be the man who teases you into getting hearing aids and still be the leader my brother's need in a fight."

The corner of your mouth lifts in an easy smile. "Leo,” you say, relief and affection moving through you like a wave, “you'll never be the tease. You'll always be the one pretending not to listen.” His frown twitches, and you take his hand. “But you'll hear me."

"How do you know?"

"Because you heard me all the other times. When I asked you to let my family help yours. When I asked for your trust. When I asked you to trust your brothers with the new Lair. You listened now, when I told you about Mikey."

Leo takes your hand in his and draws you to your feet. He pulls you in until you're standing close enough to hear his breath. "I'm supposed to look after my family."

"And maybe sometimes you can let me look after you."

Leo's expression turns soft. His eyes lose the last remnants of their walls and his head tilts as he assesses the sincerity in your voice. 

“You came into our world and turned it upside down,” he says. “I don’t know if I can.”

Despite his words, Leo inches closer. His hands slide up your arms to your elbows. His fingers curl around your arms as he takes a trembling breath. 

Your hand rises to his chest. Pauses over his heart before it moves to his cheek, briefly brushing the edge of his frown. “It’s OK… if you don’t need me. But if you do-”

You’re hushed by the feeling of Leo’s thumb caressing your cheek. You’re stilled by the sensation of his hand smoothing down your hair. “If I do,” he says, waiting for you to fill in the rest.

“Then I’m right here.”

The quiet spell is broken when Donatello rushes into the gym, skidding to a stop at the edge of the mat. 

Leo pulls away from you quickly and strides to his brother, ready to take a report. “Sitrep, Donnie.”

“The-the-the Krang. Leo, they’ve hit the city. Leo, they… they…” His gaze locks on you before his face twists to a mournful scowl. “They must have known we’ve been getting help from humans. The apartment was attacked.”


	7. Chapter 7

The blood drains from your face. You feel light-headed and unsteady on your feet. “Are my… are my…”

Donnie’s eyes lock on yours. “Raph’s there with Mikey. Everyone’s OK,” he says, but it brings little relief. “Your parents were at a charity function for the hospital.”

“And Gram?” Your throat’s gone so dry, you can barely get the question out.

“At the neighbors’.” 

A shaky breath passes through your lips as you wrap your arms around yourself.

Leo stalks the mat as he thinks aloud. “This was a targeted attack. Their numbers might not be what we projected. But they didn’t get what they came for - hostages or us. They’ll be back. We have to get the humans to a secure location.”

Your thoughts extend beyond the safety of your family. “You have to protect the apartment building.”

“Yes.” Leo gives a sharp nod. “We have to defend the city. They’ll strike the building again. We can set up a base of operations somewhere close. Keep a lookout.” He whips out his phone and calls his brothers. “Mikey, sweep the area for somewhere to set up a base. Prepare for another attack.”

Mikey’s voice carries over the speaker. “You got it, bro.” 

“Donnie,” Leo commands, “get us ready to move out. Whatever we need. Devices to track their signature, that new bo you’ve been working on. Anything else you got that might help against these guys. We’ve never been up against something like this before. We’re gonna need every advantage we can get.”

“The new weapons? But I thought you said...” Donatello rises to his full height at his brother’s nod of approval. “Of course, Leo. It’d be my honor to supply the team with new hardware. To be used in tandem with our traditional weapons, of course.”

Leo urges him, “Go!” and Donnie heads out at a sprint.

When Leo turns to you, you’re having trouble catching your breath. Tears cloud your vision and the lump in your throat makes it hard to speak.

“This is my fault,” Leo says by way of apology. “I shouldn’t have let my feelings distract me. Your family should have never been in danger.” 

You understand now. How being a distraction to him is dangerous. The world depends on him. Tending to you, indulging you, led to this. 

You believed his fears and insecurity about being vulnerable, showing weakness, were baseless. But leaving the city open to attack, leaving your family at risk… it isn’t worth whatever feelings stir in your chest when you think of him. 

You’d rather have him and everyone else safe, than to be selfish. This isn’t him choosing to ignore you, this is him choosing to save the world. 

When you return to your family home, Leo kneels before your parents and Gram. “I have dishonored you, failed you. I know my words are not enough, but I hope you will allow me to defend you and your home. I will not fail you again. On my honor. On my life.” 

Your father, filled with fear, sputters before leaving the room. You know him, he doesn’t put the blame on the turtles, not really. But he doesn’t have anywhere else to direct his feelings of anger, fear, and confusion. Not yet. 

Leo appeals to the women as they remain. “I allowed my mind to be clouded by distraction. It will not happen again. I devote my life to ninja and to your protection.” 

His apologies hurt more than you thought they would, know you’re the distraction of which he speaks. Though you came to that same conclusion less than an hour ago, hearing it from his lips ties your stomach in knots. 

“It’s time for you to go,” you find yourself saying. “You being here puts a bigger target on us, doesn’t it?”

Leo nods and stands. 

“Then, go save the city, Leo. We won’t stand in your way as distractions anymore.”

Leo’s face twists in pain before his emotions slip behind the wall he builds so well. He heads for the window and you close it behind him with more force than necessary. 

Once he’s gone, you try not to think of him. Your family needs you. They’re shaken and confused. And you don’t have all of the answers, but you have faith in the brothers. You have to believe they can fight this threat to the city. You have to believe they can win.

The Krang don’t attack again that day. Or that week. And a lookout returns to the roof. But it’s Leo and you won’t go up there. You don’t want to talk to him and it’s clear he doesn’t want you around. 

But being in the apartment, unable to spend time on your rooftop escape, is making you stir crazy. You do get little drop ins from the other guys, sometimes right before their patrol. 

Raphael will stop in to see Gram, ask about a new stitch he’s working on for his latest yarn project - a blanket for Mikey. A birthday present the young turtle isn’t supposed to know about. 

Donatello dropped in to give you a secure phone so you could contact them in case of an emergency. “Or, you know, if you ever just want to talk about life, the universe, and everything.” 

Mikey leaves you horoscopes, but it’s bittersweet. He doesn’t stick around to explain what he thinks they mean.

You convince yourself you’ve gotten over Leo, that the reason you spend more time looking at his horoscope than the others is because he’s the one perched on your roof and if the horoscope is predicting bad news for him then that translates into bad news for you, for your family, for your building. And you need to be prepared. You are absolutely not looking for any clues in regard to his feelings for you, any clues as to when you can expect him to knock on the window and apologize for pushing you away. When you can expect him to announce he’s come up with a way for you to be a boon to their cause instead of the distraction he’s determined you to be.

When the Krang launches an attack on Times Square, it’s all over the news. People are frantic. The city is in chaos. And you don’t know what to do. There’s no way off the island - and though you’d like your family to get to New Jersey, to get somewhere safely out of the way, you don’t even think of leaving yourself. 

You and Leo haven't spoken to each other in over a week and you have no idea how he’s been handling everything. The guys haven’t given many clues. Mikey’s horoscopes are too vague to understand without his interpretations. 

You know Leo holds so much inside, not wanting to burden his brothers with more than what he thinks they can handle. Why doesn’t he realize that if he trusted other people to share the burden, it’d be easier for everyone to carry? His brothers wouldn’t be as worried about him and all four of them would be better prepared to handle whatever dangers are to come.

You kiss your parents and Gram goodbye and head south toward Times Square. They know where you’re going. They don’t try to stop you. Mother straps a pack full of medical supplies to your back and squishes your face before you go. “I would be right beside you,” she says, then casts a meaningful look at Gram and Father.

The city is madness. The streets, which you thought would be teeming with people running for cover, are empty. Everyone who could find shelter has found it. Those who couldn't, well, they don't need shelter anymore. 

You charge through the streets on foot, sure the subways are out of order. There are no cabs to take you, no clear streets to drive through even if there was a vehicle to drive. 

You duck behind an abandoned news stand as a disembodied brain alien floats past. You peek through the rows of magazines to see it's not the only one. There must be a dozen krang moving down the streets. They don't seem to be looking for anything, led by an unseen force.

You startle when you feel a large, cool hand close over your mouth and nose. "Don' scream, a’right?" You'd recognize Raph's voice anywhere.

The tension in your shoulders eases up, but only a little.

"Your supposed t’ be hitchin’ a ride with Don. Gettin' the hell outta here with Gram and ya parents."

You pry Raph's hand from your face and gasp for air. The dude really doesn't realize just how massive his hand is. "I'm not leaving. I can help."

You notice the gash on his arm, and without hesitation, you swing your backpack off of one shoulder and around to your chest. It takes only a few seconds for you to fish out antiseptic spray and a roll of gauze. You patch him up efficiently. And Rapahel grunts. It's about as much thanks as you could hope to get while he's focused on the fight. 

"Told you. I can help. Get back out there. Is anyone else hurt?"

"Bout a few thousand New Yorkers." Raph’s brow furrows and his eyes look haunted. It only lasts a moment before he shakes his head and shifts his frown to a grimace. “These slimeballs fucked with the wrong city.”

You look around at the First Responders on the scene. "What about your brothers?"

"Why dontcha ask 'em yourself?" he asks as he scans the area for any sign of those  _ things _ .

You grab the secure cell from your pocket and dial the open line to the turtles. "Mikey. You alright?"

"Hey! What's shakin'?" Mikey’s greeting is casual and bright, even amid bedlam.

"You sound winded."

"I'm kinda in the middle of something,” he explains, and you can hear the thuds and shuffling of a brawl. “Can I call you back? Later?  _ Oof.  _ A lot later?  _ Yow! _ That's my good side, dude!"

In spite of everything, he manages to make you smile. "Where's Leo?"

A gruff voice joins the line. Deep and calm. “I’m right here.” Mikey’s channel cuts out and the background falls silent. Leo has found somewhere quiet to talk. "Where are you?"

Raph leans toward the phone to answer for you. "Wit me."

There’s shock in his voice, confusion and concern. "You're supposed to be with Donnie."

"Well, I'm-"

"Helpin', alright?” Raphael defends. “Got a little banged up over here. Glad I had someone on my side t' patch me up.”

You smile at him and he shoves your shoulder a bit before smiling back. And you were wrong, your first impression of him… that his snarl couldn't be improved by a smile, because when Raph smiles it really does light up his face. Softens his edges. 

It's like the rare occasion when Mikey lets himself get lost monologuing about his interests - before he catches himself and hopes that you aren't upset by his enthusiasm. 

You've only seen Donnie smile like that once. Carefree. 

But you've never seen Leo wear a carefree smile. Not ever. Maybe something tight lipped. Or something fond. Sad. Leo’s smiles hold secrets and burdens. His shoulders hold responsibility. There isn't a carefree bone in his body. He holds the weight of the world on his shell. And try as he might to hide the toll it takes on him, his brothers can see he can’t do it alone.

"Fine,” Leo concedes. “Stay with Raph."

"We're comin' to you, brutha."

"Wait where you are- No!" There's a thud and a gasp and Leo gives a shout of pain before the line goes dead.


	8. Chapter 8

Raph tracks the signal of Leo's phone with his. "He ain’t far."

You take off at a sprint, but Raphael is faster. And so strong. He grabs you with an "alley-oop" and lays you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

It's terribly uncomfortable, but by the way you bounce against his shell you can tell you're making great time.

You expect to hear the sounds of fighting growing louder. The maniacal laughter of the Krang. The mechanical screech of battered robots taking their last stand against the ninja turtles. 

You don't expect Raphael's voice to boom against your ear, rendering your ears to ring for a full minute. 

"Leo!" 

Considering the panic in his shout, you're surprised Raph has the foresight to put you down easy before rushing into the fight. 

When you find your feet, you see the same as he. There's no time to think. The guys move in sync. Always in motion. Dancing around each other, springboarding off of each other, going hard against the aliens without a break to rest. 

And you see the cause for Raph's panicked cry. Leo's lost a sword. You don't think he'd be able to lift it if he had it. 

The fight brings him toward you and you inch closer, staying out of sight as best you can. "What happened?"

"You shouldn't be here!" He growls at you. His eyes are blown wide with adrenaline, he's unfocused. His mind clouded by pain and fear. 

"Take this," you say, holding up a few glucose tablets to his face. "It'll help."

"With the pain?"

You flinch. You think that may be the first time he's admitted to that kind of vulnerability. You wish you could give him something more. "I'll find something stronger."

Leo takes what's offered without further question. "Stay outta sight," he pleads. "Don't get in the way." 

"Let me help."

"You have a problem listening?"

"Only so far as you have a problem admitting when you need help." You lift his katana, the long curved sword too heavy for you to do much by way of fighting. But you find your stance anyway. You won't forget what you've learned. The forms Raph taught you when he needed to keep calm through long nights on the rooftop. Of course you had been weilding a pair of thin axes from your cousin's cosplay. 

Leo takes the sword from your hands and sheaths it at his back. You were right about the injury to his arm. He doesn't trust it to fight. 

"You know how to use this?" He presents you with a short blade from his belt. 

You do the fancy toss and flip Raph Donnie taught you. 

"No goofing off. If you're going to do this, I need to know you can do this."

The Krang come through the ceiling with a crash and drywall crumbles down on you from overhead. 

"Doesn't look like we get a choice." You dive into the fight head first and Leo doesn't have time to object.

You get split up, but you can hear him. He shouts for you to dodge an incoming bot before you even see it coming and you think the most you're doing is being a distraction for the bots while Leo heads for the biggest brain of them all. 

Leader against leader. You watch them square off. The bots grab you and hold you to make you watch, not that you would dare turn away. 

Leonardo doesn't look your way, however. And no matter how many ways you reason it out, it hurts. The metal hands clamp down on your shoulders and drop you to your knees and Leo doesn't even spare you a glance.

Just a distraction, you remind yourself. You keep your mouth shut. Letting Leo have his focus on the Krang is the best chance for survival. Yours, his, and everyone else in the city. In the world.

The weight of Leo's responsibility hits you like a kick in the stomach. He really takes on so much, alone. 

Mikey let out a whoop from the towering building to your left. And the surprise of it brings a smile to your face. "Look for old friends in high places,” he says. “Fortune favors the bold." 

He flips down to your rescue, dispatching the bots with ease. When he lays waste to your last guard, Mikey gives you a light chuck on the chin. "Horoscopes, amiright? They never lie!"

Raph is next to drop into place behind his brother. Donnie last, but not without reinforcements. 

"These blasters will eminnate a percussive blast that should disrupt the pink matter of their neurostructure. If we can lure them out of the robot casings, I think even a concentrated sonic blast could neutralize the threat."

Raph reaches for a gun. "You had me at blaster, Don. Just hand 'em over."

"Where's Leo?" Donatello asks as he assigns you and Mikey with a blaster each. "Radar said he'd be here."

"Krang led him off the ledge," you say testing the weight of the gun in your hand. "This way."

The turtles are faster than you. And the four of them together move in synchronous, fatal beauty. 

Mikey delivers the final blast, paying the Krang back for pulverising him that night a month ago.

Once the Krang is destroyed, Leo looks to his brothers. All standing, weary but whole. They watch as their leader passes through the destruction calling your name.

You're trapped under a fallen wall, but you're fine. You try to tell him as much, but he quickens his step.and his shouts grow more frantic.

"Leo, I'm here. I'm ok. I'm here."

Leo struggles with the block and you assure him you’re trapped, not pinned. It takes more convincing than you think is necessary considering there’s no pain or panic in your voice. Only relief. 

Killing the Krang caused the other aliens to fall lifeless to the ground. And while city clean up will be a mess likely drawing more questions than answers, you’re grateful the fight is over. 

Sirens blare on the streets below. But they’re a distant sound. Leo is in front of you, promising you’ll be out soon. 

“Guys!” He shouts, and his voice is breaking when he realizes he can’t lift half an abandoned warehouse without assistance. “Guys! Hurry!”

Then, you hear what his more sensitive ears have already picked up. The rubble is shifting. 

Your heart rate speeds up, each beat thumps in your chest hard enough you wonder if Leo can hear it. 

"I see you!" He says as he and his brothers work frantically to get you out. 

You blink through a gap in the rubble, a confused tilt to your neck because, yes, he sees you. You've caught his glances every few seconds as he scrambles to move rock and steel from the pile that's locked you in.

"I was wrong," he says as Raph helps him cast a concrete slab aside. "Before.” 

As Leo speaks, his voice cracks, and his brothers pick up their pace while he reaches for you through the gap. He pulls you to him and once you're safe, you recognize his hands on your arms are trembling. 

His blue eyes shine with apology. "I was wrong. I see you. What you do for us. I see you when you think no one's looking." 

You hear the truth in his words, but you don't understand.

"I see you when you're with the others. You help them feel understood. You're a friend when they need someone to trust."

"I help them…"

"Me. And me." His hand lifts, shaking, as he tucks a hair behind your ear. "You see me. You've always seen me. But I didn't think I wanted to be seen."

"I’m a distraction,” you argue despite the way it breaks your heart. “I make you lose focus.”

Leo drops his head, shaking it slowly as he looks down at his feet. “Only because I’ve been fighting a war within myself. It blinded me to what was going on around me.” 

You hear, more than see, his brothers shifting behind you, because you can’t take your eyes away from Leo.

“Almost losing you,” he says, “without making my apology. I couldn’t-”

“So don’t,” you tell him, placing a hand on his chest. Touching his chin just enough to tip it up.

He looks at you with his mouth drawn in a frown. “I’m sorry I pushed you away, when all I wanted… what I truly wanted… was this.” His thumb caresses your cheek and you lift your hand to cradle his face. 

When he leans down for a kiss, Mikey gasps and Raph rears back with a low “Whoa” but you don’t notice any of that. Leo’s mouth is firm against yours, but the press of his lips is tender, slow. Your arms reach up to slide around his neck to pull him down, to pull him close. He lifts you off the ground instead. And he smiles into your kiss.

You can’t believe you’re witnessing his first real smile and you don’t even get to see it. But feeling it against your own is so much better, you think.

“I almost lost you,” Leo mumbles against your lips, as if remembering anew. His uninjured arm tightens around you and it feels like he’s holding on for dear life. 

The truth of his words hits you square in the chest. The shock of the day - terror and relief - wash over you like a flood and you start to shake and laugh in his embrace. 

He checks you over to make sure you’re not hurt and you assure him for what feels like the thousandth time that you’re fine, before he looks you in the eyes again, takes your face in his hand, and brings your heads together for another kiss. 

Donatello clears his throat forcefully enough you know he means to interrupt. “Undoubtedly this display of affection is lovely, but it is public and a bit uncomfortable for present company. Additionally, there’s the matter of us being out in the open - in broad daylight - to consider. So, perhaps it’s best we take this party elsewhere.”

You look around at the destruction and down at Leo’s injured arm. It’s all worse than anyone is letting on. But the city is protected. The city will heal. 

“May I take you home?” Leo asks. He looks to Donnie to confirm he’s got them somewhere safe.

“It’ll calm my mind,” Leo says, stroking your cheek, “knowing you’re with your family.”

In spite of everything, you have him. You smile. “You think I’d walk home alone in this mess?” 


	9. Chapter 9

Months later, the world is still shaken by the attack but recovering. The guys are mysterious heroes - more myth and rumor than reality to most. But even their injuries have healed, their way of life has been restored. 

You and Leo are trying to work out a rhythm. He still struggles to open up to his brothers, not wanting to burden them with his thoughts, his anxieties. But he speaks to you. You help him work through his concerns and help him recognize when he’s becoming overwhelmed. And he gives you security. He acts as a sounding board when life gets confusing. When decisions seem too big, he helps you put it all into perspective. And he’s supportive of you in every way.

Living in close contact with vigilantes, you considered medical school to learn how to better take care of the guys. But that had never been your forte or your passion. When Leonardo learned about your interest and knowledge of computer science, however, he lovingly and teasingly re-introduced you to Donatello whose excitement blew his pupils wide. 

⁂

You’re sitting at your desk, a place Donatello cleared for you along his workstation. A place where you can study and ask him questions. Where together you spitball new ways to think and new paths to take as you all wrap your minds around living in a Multidimensional reality. 

Donatello is explaining this theory of existence in terms of Quantum Mechanics and String Theory when Leo and Mikey return from a short patrol.

“We got pad thai!” Mikey announces, and a quick glance over your shoulder shows him swinging take out bags by the armful. 

It’s not long before Leo’s standing behind your chair, sliding his hands down your arms and planting a kiss on your cheek. “How is it going?” he asks, and while you know he cares, you really don’t want to exhaust him with talk of theories when he’s just come home. 

You turn to catch his lips for a little peck and smile. “It’s goin’. Did you grab me a-”

“Vegetarian, nut-free. Yes. Picky, picky.” His kiss to your cheek lingers as he gives your shoulders a light squeeze, and you sigh under his attentive hands.

“Mmhm.” You wish you could stay here forever, let yourself float into the bliss of his fingers working the tension from your neck. But your stomach rumbles at the promise of food. “I like what I like,” you say with a growing smile.

Leo laughs as his thumbs rub circles into your shoulders one last time. “Guess I should be honored that you like me, then.”

“Guess so, Honor Boy.” You swivel out of the chair, give him a wink, and hurry toward where Mikey’s setting out dinner. “You gonna join us, or what?”

“In a minute.” Leo heads over to debrief Donnie on the situation above ground before the two of them find seats around the table.

The food is warm and conversation is mostly light until Raphael clears his throat. 

“So, I, uh, I met someone,” Raph starts, poking around in his noodles with his plastic fork and spoon. 

The room quiets as eyes turn to Leo. Even Raph, though his chin remains ducked to his chest, lifts his gaze, waiting for a response.

Leo’s brow furrows. “We have to be careful,” he says, and it sounds like the start of a conversation you’ve all heard before. “There are more rumors about us now. Photos. The wider we expand our group, the more dangerous it becomes for everyone. We put ourselves-” he reaches for your hand “-and the humans we come in contact with at risk.”

Accepting the squeeze of his fingers as they entwined with yours feels unfair. You’ve talked to Leo about this, the double-standard, and you thought he’d moved past this way of thinking. 

But his younger brothers expected to hear Leo speak this way. They turn back to their food with resigned murmurs of understanding.

“What I mean is…” Leo goes on, and you hold your breath, “be careful out there, Raphael. Make sure they’re worth it. That they’re worthy of you.”

The heads of his brothers rise with varying swiftness, disbelief writ large across their features. 

“I can run a background check,” Donatello offers, finger raised for attention.

“And my father can dig around, too.”

“Raph’s horoscope did say ‘opportunity for new love will strike when least expected’.”

Raphael grumbles, “Never said nothin’ bout love.” But he seems to consider everyone’s offers. At the least, he appreciates their support. Before he agrees to anything, however, he watches his oldest brother for approval.

“You did the right thing telling us.” Leo says, but immediately realizes the tone is wrong. “I’m glad you told us. That you told me,” he adds softly. “I hope it all works out.”

Raphael shrugs, but he starts eating again and it signals to the others that he’s in a good place. 

You lay your hand upon Leo’s shell, rubbing up and down with pride. You smile at the small group, the band of brothers who have become your dearest friends, and you wonder how many people they’ll bring into the fold. 

“Do we all get a human?” Mikey asks curiously. “I think I want a crocodile.”

Leo’s smile pulls tight, but he’s smiling nonetheless. “OK. Or, y'know, maybe start with something small.”

“Hmm,” Mikey looks thoughtful as he strokes his chin. “Like a cat?”

The alternative soothes Leo’s nerves. “Sure.”

Hands flapping and smile beaming, Mikey hops up to his feet. 

“That was easy. Why was that easy?” Leo’s gaze follows Mikey as the youngest turtle disappears into his train car. When Mikey returns, he has a ball of fur cuddled to his chest. “Oh.”

Mikey is too busy nuzzling his nose between the cat’s ears to pay much attention to the rest of the group. 

Raph speaks up with a soft chuckle. “Heh heh. Leo, meet Klunk.”

Leo turns to you speechless as you join Raphael’s amusement. You bite your lip and shake your head to stifle your giggling, before leaning into Leo’s side. Mikey’s coos carry over his brother’s deep laugh. 

With your head resting on Leo’s arm, your hands locked between you, Leo rounds on Donnie with a heavy sigh. “Any more surprises?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!


End file.
